Bang!

Faizan watched in horror as the landlord’s brain exploded and splattered all over the wall behind the sofa, like an abstract painting in an art museum. Inaya screamed in horror, her wailing reverberating throughout the whole house and piercing Faizan’s ears, who felt his brain was drifting deeper into insanity, unable to come to terms with the horrors he had seen. The smell of blood and guts that he thought he had run away from filled his nostrils again, and even deeper than when Pehlwan had been killed, because of the stifling atmosphere of the mud brick houses. He could also detect a hint of gunpowder and smoke.

The mother laughed letting the shotgun drop to the side. “Let’s see your friends save him now.”

Inaya had broken down to tears on her knees in front of the gory mess that had been her father. Her mother approached her and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Inaya. This is a blessing. Now you can marry the boy from the city, your life is set now.”

Inaya continued to weep, ignoring her mother. Faizan had been so shocked by the murder he had completely forgotten about the mention of marriage. There was no way he was going to marry, least of all anyone in this insane village. He began to slowly shuffle backwards out of the house, the doorway leading outside not much further. The landlord’s wife had seemed like such a nice lady but now it seemed like she had gone insane like the rest of them. He wondered if his friends had suffered the same fate, or worse, the fate that the landlord had met. He knew he had to get away and find the answers to these questions themselves.

He had covered about half the distance to the doorway when in a swift movement, the landlady had the shotgun cocked in his face. “Don’t you dare move, son. You are not leaving this house until you are married to my daughter.”

Faizan froze in place, looking into her insane addled eyes. He glanced at Inaya behind her, whose tears had dried up now and she was looking at him in concern. He hoped that she understood that he too was not willing to marry her.

He heard movement behind him and turned out to see an elderly man enter, with a long white bushy beard that looked like it hadn’t been combed in ages and bushy eyebrows that covered his eyes. He had an enormous white turban on his head that was darkened from not being washed. He wore no shirt and the musky smell of sweat filled up the whole room. He was scratching his hairy chest and looked unbothered by the tense proceedings and the dead body, as if it was just a decoration piece in the room.

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“Ah, maulvi sahab. You are just in time,” said the landlord’s wife, her demeanour completely changing but she did not lower the shotgun. “Would you like some tea?”

“If it's not too much trouble,” replied the maulvi politely. Faizan could see him examining him even though his eyes were not visible.

“Go! Get maulvi sahab some tea! Get some for your soon-to-be husband too, maybe your tea will win him over,” she said smiling at Faizan which made him wince.

“The boy you have chosen for your daughter is very handsome,” noted the maulvi sahab approaching Faizan. “Looks like he’s from a wealthy family. God has really blessed you, with wealth, a big house and now this.”

“Indeed, I am very thankful to him,” she smiled and then turned to glare at her daughter, who slowly shuffled towards the kitchen, her eyes widened, clearly in shock.

“Please, sir, sit,” said the landlord’s wife gesturing towards the sofa that was set perpendicular to the bloodied one. “I’m sorry for the mess but unfortunately, there were some obstacles in the way of marriage. But as you can see her father is present and well, he is currently unable to consent for his daughter which makes me the one in charge. Will that be fine?”

“No problem,” said the maulvi, still unfazed by the body’s presence as he sat down. “The devil sends many obstacles in the way of enlightenment but someone as blessed as you should be able to get past them. As you have blessed me with this chance to marry your daughter, and will no doubt compensate me for this holy opportunity.”

“Of course, sir, of course. Son, why don’t you go sit there with him as well so we can get started.”

But Faizan didn’t move. He was scared for his life but there was no way he was going to get forced to marry someone like that, regardless of the shotgun in his face. He thought of Hina, and knew he was loyal to her to the death.

“I said, could you PLEASE sit down,” she said, cocking the shotgun. Faizan gulped but he stood his ground.

“I don’t want to marry her.”

“Why not?” she asked. “She is so pretty and she will bless you with many sons. She will work hard for you and I know you will not find a woman like that in the city. They have too much of an attitude.”

Faizan didn’t reply but she understood from his gaze that his decision was unchanged. She sighed.

“Does he have to say yes?” asked the landlord’s wife, turning to look at the maulvi.

“Yes, that is what the Lord and our dear Prophet has commanded,” he answered.

“Even if I compensate you a lot more than the agreed amount?”

The maulvi thought for a moment. “Even so. The Lord has blessed us with the third Eid, I possibly cannot anger him.”

“Very well, then,” she sighed, turning to the maulvi and blasting him in the face with the shotgun. Before Faizan could even react, he saw a flash of movement and the butt of the shotgun smashed hard into his face. He fell down with a groan, holding onto his head that felt like it had been smashed in. All he could see was red until the pain got too much for him, and the red slowly washed away into blackness. He lost consciousness.